


Anger

by MadnessofVoid



Series: tumblr works [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Derek's anchor isn't what you think, First Meetings, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, alternating pov, but also alternate universe, ish, mentions of bullying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:18:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8341336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadnessofVoid/pseuds/MadnessofVoid
Summary: With a huff and puffed up cheeks, Stiles sat back in his seat, bouncing Anger on his lap. The conversation seemed deathly serious as yet four more gurneys with full body bags rolled out. How many people died in that house? Did they all die? Was it arson? 
Why would anyone want to burn down the Hale house?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another fic I originally did for tumblr and I thought it would be good enough to share here!
> 
> As always, beta'd by the lovely AsagiStilinski (I swear, she is the best, you guys)
> 
> Also, if I made a mistake in any of the police terms...I AM SO SORRY! THE INTERNET ISN'T ALWAYS RELIABLE! 
> 
> And one more thing! This fic was inspired by this post: http://dailyderekstiles.tumblr.com/post/138425492469/torakodragon-so-what-if-after-the-hale (I will one day learn how to do links, I swear)

So…Stiles was in trouble.  
  


In big, _big_ trouble.  
  


And he knew he was in some deep trouble, or deep shit as he would like to say but would only make things worse, because his dad had picked him up in the cruiser instead of bothering to go pick up the Jeep. Was still in uniform instead of changing into civilian clothes.  
  


Crap.  
  


Stiles did _not_ need his dad to be any more upset at anything than he already was.  
  


But it was a bit hard to behave in class when he couldn’t concentrate. Or when Jackson was being a huge jerk and kept making jabs at the barely three weeks deceased Claudia Stilinski. Or when Jackson decided to steal Anger and almost threw the stuffed wolf up on the roof of the school.  
  


Anger was all Stiles had left of his mother, besides his memories.  
  


Jackson deserved the hair pulling, arm biting, and hits to the face Stiles gave him.  
  


Stiles told his dad so, hugging Anger tightly to his chest and sniffling.  
  


His father sighed, his hand twitching in need to slide it down his face. “Kiddo…you can’t hit the Whittmore kid just because he’s being a brat.”  
  


“Yes I can! He made fun of mom and tried to put Anger on the roof!” Stiles snapped, sniffling more and glaring through the cage that separated himself and his dad.  
  


“Aw hell…he tried to throw Anger on the roof?” The sheriff sighed again, shaking his head. “If I could honestly give that kid a swift kick in the ass, I would. But I can’t, because I would be sued. I don’t have that kind of money to save me from that. And I have to pretend that I have punished you. So…uh…p-pretend I took away your Gameboy for a week. And TV. And that I screamed at you for an hour.”  
  


Stiles nodded, feeling relieved. His dad wasn’t mad at him after all. Maybe frustrated, but not mad enough to yell at him. That was what Stiles was scared of. His dad was prone to yelling more lately.  
  


Especially when he was drinking…  
  


“ _Unit 1? Do you copy, Unit 1?”_  
  


Stiles perked up, eyes wide. He had been in the cruiser a few times when the scanner called for his dad. It was always exciting. The first time he had heard the scanner, he interrogated his dad about all the codes and what they meant. Took him a week to have them all memorized. He was so proud of himself!  
  


If only his dad had been just as proud…  
  


The sheriff picked up the little radio, holding it towards his mouth. “This is Unit 1.”  
  


“ _Unit 1, we need you to head over to the Hale residence. We have a possible 451. Details hazy. Ambulance en-route. Fire department already on scene.”_  
  


The ten year old sank in his seat, hugging Anger closer to him. 451 – arson. A fire. And at the Hale house out in the preserve? There were a lot of people that lived in the Hale house.  
  


Were any of them dead…?  
  


His dad had to be thinking the same thing, because from the rear view mirror Stiles could see the worry pinched in his dad’s face before he replied.  
  


“Copy. On my way to the scene.”  
  


The flashers were turned on. The sirens wailed. The cruiser sped up.  
  


“When we get there…I need you to stay in the car.” the sheriff said sternly.  
  


“But…”  
  


“No buts, Stiles. I need you to stay in the car and not intervene in anything. Understand?”  
  


Stiles sighed, staring out the window. “I understand…yeah…”  
  


“Good. And whatever you see -”  
  


“I’ll be okay, dad.”  
  


His father nodded, looking guilty about having to bring Stiles along for this.  
  


Stiles felt just as guilty for feeling excited to see his dad work.  
  


At least he felt an equal amount of dread, too…  
  


**~+~**   
  


The Hale house was up in smoke, the fire long gone by the time the Stilinskis arrived.  
  


Stiles quivered in his seat, burying his face from the nose down in Anger’s black fur. He held back a scared whine, not wanting his dad to hear. He was a big kid. He wasn’t scared of anything!  
  


Except of people dressed like doctors, or anything that had to deal with hospitals…  
  


Not Melissa, though. She was nice.  
  


When his dad pulled up onto the dirt driveway, there were EMTs rolling out gurney after gurney. All holding black body backs that were full. There was one person that wasn’t in a body bag…but he was screaming like a wild animal and covered in black and sickly red patches of skin.  
  


Stiles considered throwing up.  
  


“Stay here.” the sheriff ordered, reminding Stiles of what he was supposed to do here.  
  


His father parked and immediately hurried out, meeting up with officers already on scene. Stiles wished he could hear what his dad and the other officers were saying. He was nosy like that. Always wanted to know the details. He unbuckled himself and opened his door, leaning out a little in hopes of hearing the conversation.  
  


Didn’t work.  
  


With a huff and puffed up cheeks, Stiles sat back in his seat, bouncing Anger on his lap. The conversation seemed deathly serious as yet four more gurneys with full body bags rolled out. How many people died in that house? Did they all die? Was it arson?  
  


Why would anyone want to burn down the Hale house?  
  


The Hales were nice. Especially Mrs. Hale. She brought cookies to Stiles’ third grade class because her daughter Cora was in it. She also came for story time when he was in first grade. Sometimes she brought her son Derek with her when he didn’t want to go to school. And Derek was the coolest person in the world. Big, strong, and told awesome jokes.  
  


Was Derek in the house when the fire happened?  
  


Was Mrs. Hale?  
  


Was Cora?  
  


Stiles sank in his seat again, holding Anger tightly and frowning. If this was an arson…his dad would catch them. Would make them pay for doing this to the Hales. The Hales didn’t deserve it. They were just…they were so nice…  
  


Even Cora was nice!  
  


_Sometimes_ …  
  


Suddenly, a black car zoomed up onto the property, tearing Stiles’ attention towards it. The car was still running, luckily parked, before a girl ran out of it screaming bloody murder. She ran into his dad, screaming words that Stiles couldn’t make out. Then, she started crying-screaming. She tried to fight off his dad, but she didn’t have the energy for it.  
  


There was the sound of a door slamming shut, drawing Stiles away from the girl and his dad. He saw Derek standing by the black car – his face pale and eyes wide. Derek barely stepped forward before dropping to his knees and…just…continued to stare. To stare right at his home.  
  


Stiles thought about throwing up again.  
  


Derek had lost his home. So many of his family had died. Stiles couldn’t imagine how hurt Derek was. He had lost his mom three weeks ago today…but if he lost his house and his whole family…  
  


Derek needed a hug. Derek needed something to hold on to like Stiles was with Anger.  
  


But everything in the house was burnt…Derek didn’t have anything…  
  


It may be breaking the rules his dad had set for him, but Stiles was never good at following rules.  
  


They were more like _guidelines_ anyway.  
  


Stiles crawled across the seat, carefully opening the other door. He poked his head up, making sure his dad was still preoccupied. Once deeming that the sheriff was indeed not going to notice anything else than the sobbing/screaming girl, Stiles did a sloppy tuck and roll right out of the cruiser. He oofed, having landed more on his stomach than how he was supposed to. He then army crawled for a little, praying nobody would notice him and alert his father.  
  


Luck was on his side. For once.  
  


By the time he reached the black car, everyone was too busy to notice a ten year old trying to sneak around the back of the black car. Everyone but Derek, who flinched the closer Stiles got. Who barely looked at Stiles once the fourth grader was in front of the teen.  
  


“H-hi, Derek…” Stiles greeted quietly, keeping his eyes right on the boy in front of him instead of elsewhere. “You okay?”  
  


As if to answer him…Derek started to cry quietly, tears rolling down his cheeks. Stiles’ heart picked up, panic mode setting in. He was not prepared for Derek to cry. Derek was strong, cool, awesome! He didn’t cry!  
  


But Stiles had cried too when he lost his mom.  
  


Derek might have lost his mom, too…  
  


And more people than that…  
  


“U-um…” He quickly held out Anger before he lost his courage, making a firm face. “Here!”  
  


Derek finally looked up at Stiles, blinking some more tears down.  
  


“This is Anger. ‘Cause, well, he’s always angry looking. My mom made him for me when I was little. I’m not so little now, I guess, but he’s one of my best friends and always makes me feel better.” He shook the wolf plush in front of Derek’s face, cheeks darkening. “You…you can keep him, okay? You need him more than me right now. Just…just take care of him! If you don’t…I’ll…I’ll find out! And I’ll kick your butt! Kick it good!”  
  


Derek blinked again, this time more confused than sad. He took Anger carefully, staring at it like it was some sort of alien at first. Then, slowly, his nose scrunched up and he hugged Anger close, burying his face into the black fur. He sobbed – shoulders shaking and the noises sounding choked. Stiles beamed, feeling like he had done good. He turned to leave, because he didn’t need his dad to notice him missing from the cruiser.  
  


But he didn’t get far.  
  


Didn’t because Derek pulled him back and hugged him tight, too.  
  


He cried into Stiles’ shoulders, holding onto him like a those life preservers. It felt weird but…Stiles did this with Scott a lot lately. Maybe it was a good thing to have someone else do it on him for the same reason he had? Someone who was hurting the same way…  
  


Stiles stood there, letting Derek cry. At times like these, Stiles knew it was best to stay quiet. He liked it when someone was quiet and let him just cry until he was done. So he did that for Derek. He smiled softly, wriggling his arm out and patting Derek’s back gently like his mother used to do.  
  


It was his way of saying that even though he was hurting now…things were going to be okay later on.  
  


Always would.  
  


**~+~**   
  


“I had no idea you had so much shit, Der.”  
  


Derek rolled his eyes, shoving his bedding into a box begrudgingly.  
  


He liked the loft. He honestly did. But Stiles, and the others, were right. There was too much bad air hanging around the place. It would be better, and healthier, if Derek moved elsewhere. And he wasn’t surprised that Stiles had spent day and night researching houses for rent or sale, same with apartments, for the former Alpha to possibly move in to.  
  


“ _You are not moving into some place where it can be all…Spartan again. You need to make the place look like a home, sourwolf! And it needs to be in a nice area! No need for you to live in a place that looks like it belongs to wannabe gang bangers. Or isn’t an abandoned railway station.”_ Stiles had relayed to him time after time he brought over printouts of places he had found that he approved of.  
  


Derek caved and found a nice house that he bought for less than it was worth nearby Stiles’ neighborhood. It was big enough for when the pack wanted to come over. Big enough for when he needed to pace. And, with Lydia’s decorative help, the place would look like an actual home.  
  


Derek needed one of those.  
  


Been far too long since he had a structure he could call home…  
  


He had sold the building the loft to a construction company wanting to tear it down in order to rebuild the industrial district and make it alive again. Got good money for it, too. What it was worth and then some. So with the house bought, the building sold, he was packing up and getting ready to officially move tomorrow.  
  


Stiles had been the only one to consistently come over after school every day to help Derek pack up.  
  


The others had come by as well. Just not as often.  
  


It was nice to know that even though he didn’t feel like he had a place in Scott’s pack that they still considered him a friend. A sort of mentor. Someone they needed when they were stumped or needed back-up.  
  


“Seriously…how do you have so much stuff?” Stiles huffed, taping up yet another box before moving it over to the front door.  
  


“Some of it was in storage.” Derek sighed, taping up his own box. “I opened up those boxes after you and Kira left yesterday. Had to see what was in them. Repack what I wanted.”  
  


“What was it?”  
  


“Stuff that survived the fire.”  
  


There was a brief moment of silence before Stiles answered with a hesitant, “Oh…”  
  


They worked in quiet after that. Getting the last bit done in a more timely manner. Maybe if they finished before nine, Derek would take Stiles out for some late night burgers and curly fries. A nice treat for all the help the teen had done.  
  


Suddenly, there was an audible gasp that turned Derek right on his heels and tense. It could have been Stiles being over dramatic again – finding something like one of the few albums of photos that had miraculously survived the fire. That would be something Stiles would gasp over. Probably would coo over baby pictures of Derek and tease him to no end. Still, it was always good to double check.  
  


It wasn’t a photo album in Stiles’ hand.  
  


It was a small, black furred wolf plush.  
  


Anger…  
  


Derek’s eyes went wide and his blood ran cold. He had forgotten that he still had that plush. It was more of a comfort object some nights. Something he set on his dresser to remember that day…  
  


He thought he had packed that thing away earlier...  
  


“Um…”  
  


Stiles glanced up at him, face caught between shock and nostalgia. “You…you still have him…”  
  


Derek’s face flushed and his throat tightened. Numbly, he nodded.  
  


“I thought you lost him…or…you know…threw him away or forgot…or…something…”  
  


The werewolf shook his head, keeping his eyes on a particular patch on the ground. “No. Slept with him at night until I was twenty.”  
  


The revelation seemed to knock the wind out of Stiles. “You…you did?”  
  


Derek nodded stiffly. “It smelled like you…”  
  


“Like…? Oh my god…when you said anger was your anchor…did you seriously mean _Anger_?”  
  


“N-no! The emotion, you idiot!”  
  


Despite not looking at Stiles, he could feel the smirk the teen was making.  
  


“Oh. My god. My plushie mom made me as a toddler was your _**anchor**_!”  
  


“Shut up.”  
  


“I promise I won’t tell anyone. But…oh my god! You huge sap! A stuffed plushie was your anchor for years! I love it!”  
  


“Shut up, Stiles…”  
  


Suddenly, he felt arms and a furry item wrapped around him. He glanced up, confused as to why Stiles was hugging him. With a sly grin. One fit for a fox. Derek’s brows furrowed as he glowered at the teen, not amused in the slightest. Stiles hummed a small laugh, pressing his chin on the wolf’s chest and keeping his mischievous stare on the older man.  
  


“You are a teddy bear, Derek.” teased Stiles fondly.  
  


The snort Derek made should have scared Stiles off.  
  


Then again…the _glares_ should have scared Stiles off.  
  


Stiles had always been a little broken in the what to fear department…  
  


“Thanks for taking care of him. Mom would’ve been happy that Anger was useful to someone that needed him.”  
  


Derek blinked, surprised by those words. They tugged at his heartstrings. But he knew Stiles meant it. He allowed himself to smile ever so slightly, nodding.  
  


“He was very useful.”  
  


“Good. That’s good.”  
  


“You…can have him back. You need him more than I do.”  
  


Stiles barked a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Damn teddy bear, sappy wolfie wolf.”  
  


“Take that back…or I won’t take you out for burgers and curly fries…”  
  


Stiles sighed, shoving Derek away as he hugged Anger close to him. “Fine. I’ll take it back…until those curly fries are in my hands and in my belly.”  
  


Typical of Stiles. So typical.  
  


But Stiles was grossly adorable holding Anger like he was ten again.  
  


Derek decided he would let the pain in ass antics slide. For now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk sterek with me!
> 
> youfancymemaddearie.tumblr.com


End file.
